


Spirits in my head (they won't go)

by Analinea



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, Light Angst, Magical Pregnancy, Pregnancy, and I don't know what else to tag, anyway, blink and you miss it Stony, character study of sorts, now that you've read it in the tags you won't be able to not see it in the fic, possible OOCness of the characters, someone take me away from the tags, this fic is a special order
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 09:44:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10511223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Analinea/pseuds/Analinea
Summary: “You created a life that you imagined as a product of you, and of me. They're ours. And it's wonderful, Wanda, you're wonderful. You're giving me something I never dared to hope for: children of my own.”In front of anyone else she would try hard not to cry. But right then she's just feeling so damn lucky she can't stop the tears.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So first of all, this is a special demand! So here you go my dude, and I hope this is somewhat what you asked for! :3
> 
> Second of all **I know only the Marvel Cinematic Universe** and **it's my first (and prob only) fic for this fandom** so forgive me for any OOCness and such; and please be gentle with me in the comments  
> !  
>  This turned out into a character study for a character I've seen only in two movies and from what I hear had nothing to do with her comics version!  
> That said it was actually fun to write when it wasn't difficult af xD
> 
> Enjoy!

They're fighting when it happens, when Thanos tries to distract her long enough.  
Her brother's image appears right in front of her and she could weep, because she never forgets the dead but their memories become distorted with time and grief; he's both more beautiful and more human than how she remembers him.  
A voice tells her I could bring him back but she knows it's a lie. This kind of offer is always a lie. She can't help the way her powers burn inside of her, just like the day Pietro died. The fire of it makes the hurt of his absence disappear for a moment and she can't find it in herself to try and make it stop.  
She can't make it stop anyway, she knows, her own magic doesn't listen to her begging. Her strongest emotions always make it go awry.  
So, Pietro is standing in front of her looking and feeling so real; but so ethereal at the same time. Wanda is overflowing with rage -how dare Thanos conjure up something so pure- and desperation, denial, acceptance, all at once. The red of her emotions start to seep from her skin in waves.  
There's a second of stillness, a second for whoever can feel her energy to turn to her and scream a warning for the others. She can feel the build up of her energy about to be unleashed and it would be a lie to say that she's sure it won't hurt the team.  
She hates the fact that she got close enough to them that she cares if she will harm them. She thought she had learned her lesson after loosing her entire family.  
At least Pietro could outrun her chaos.  
Wanda closes her eyes against the tsunami of energy, lets the explosion happen.  
It seems it'll never stop.  
But then, Vision is behind her, the only one that can get close to her in moments like these even if it must hurt him; he embraces her as if he could contain her powers. She knows he can do damage control to some extent, protect the others.  
Having him next to her gets her some focus back, and she remembers what Agatha had said. Give the powers a purpose, somewhere to go.  
Wanda looks inside of her memories for a safe place. A bright moment, something that doesn't hurt.  
“Do you want children?” he asked, and she was mortified to see that he had found her book on babies names. She didn't even know why she had bought it, except that it had Pietro's name in it.  
“I–” she considered lying, spare him the pain. But he deserved the truth from her, always, “Yes. I don't want them to have the same kind of life that we live, but if we were free of it I would want to have kids.”  
He looked at her, considering. “I can't give you children of our own, but adoption is always an option.”  
She smiled. “Pietro and me, we were adopted. Doesn't make it less family.” Doesn't make it hurt less to lose it, she didn't say.  
“I promise, then. One day we'll be free of this life and make ourselves a big family.”

Wanda wakes up when the fight is over. They tell her in debrief everything that happened while she blacked out, but in all honesty she's not listening to a single word they're saying. She has a weird feeling, like her perception is slightly shifted.  
Like her center of gravity has changed. She brushes it off.  
Months and missions pass until she finally understands.  
It still comes as a surprise to some people that she's human after all; she tries not to be offended by that.  
It means that for all her magic, she still bleeds every month of her life with more or less regularity. Being a little late with her periods doesn't worry her that much, especially considering kids are out of the picture with Vision.  
But then late turns into not at all, and it's weird. Bodily functions never take a break, not even for the shittiest moments of your life. Wanda's confused. She doesn't know who to talk to about it: about the nausea, her breasts getting heavier, her sense of smell being suddenly heightened.  
The Avengers are out of the equation, no matter how much trust she puts in them. It would simply be too awkward or downright weird to breach this kind of subject.  
She tries to picture herself going to Thor about it and it makes her laugh despite the serious of the situation.  
Vision is the last person she would want to give false hope to.  
So she goes to the only person that feels qualified for this: someone whose Curriculum Vitae includes being a medical doctor and an expert in magic. Someone she knows she can trust, who is neutral and will understand the precarious nature of the situation.  
Steven Strange.  
He's a man of few words but kind in his own way, has a twinkle in his eyes that speaks of a certain humor. It always makes her feel at ease.  
“You're definitely pregnant,” he says in his deep voice. He looks up at her like he's trying to gauge her reaction. She doesn't know what to feel about it. Mostly, she doesn't understand.  
“But– how?”  
He leans back and considers his answer, hands crossed in front of him. “There's magic woven deep inside of them, more than if they were only your biological children.”  
The implication sends a chill down her spine. No one can create life, not like this. “Them?” she asks instead, because it's easier.  
“Twins,” he simply answers, sympathy written on his face. A silence falls between them while she tries to get used to the idea. She still can't believe it.  
“Are they even real?” she brokenly whispers.  
“As real as you wished them to be.”

Twins. She wonders how that happened.  
Her safe memory was the promise of having kids, yes, but two of them at once? That has to mean something.  
Maybe the conversation with Vision was only the surface of her safe place, maybe deep down for her being safe has always meant...  
Pietro.  
What would he say right now? Something quirky to make her laugh. He was always the best at jokes. God, how she wishes she could talk to him right now. I'm going to be their favorite uncle, and she would reply Obviously, you're going to be their only uncle.  
That's not true anymore.  
But Wanda isn't exactly alone. She has Vision, yes, but she also has family of some kind. More than a team, and they won't ever replace her own brother but somehow...it's enough.  
First, she has to tell Vision.  
“They're not yours,” she insists, looking him right in the eyes because she needs him to understand that she afraid it's what he'll think of this pregnancy. She needs to see his reaction when faced with this reality, watch the dance of emotions across the face in front of her. She's always capable of reading him where others only see a blank slate.  
She doesn't really know what she expects. She's not ready for delicacy.  
“Wanda,” he simply says, putting a hand on her cheek. He knows her as best as she knows him. “You pictured our children, our children, in a dire moment. An instant of desperation, and you poured yourself in the memory of us talking about having kids because it made you happy.  
“You created a life that you imagined as a product of you, and of me. They're ours. And it's wonderful, Wanda, you're wonderful. You're giving me something I never dared to hope for: children of my own.”  
In front of anyone else she would try hard not to cry. But right then she's just feeling so damn lucky she can't stop the tears.

Wanda doesn't want a general announcement during one of the Avengers meetings. She doesn't want her pregnancy to feel like an official superhero matter, something to be dealt with.  
She has a moment of hesitation when it comes to choosing who to tell first. She asks Vision; he doesn't shrug -he never does- but it's clear that he doesn't have any idea either.  
They care about everyone on the team but it's more of an anticipation of each of their reactions. For one, Wanda knows Steve will care so much about it that she's not sure if she wants to tell him first or last.  
She finally decides to go for first. Vision smiles gently and then says he'll talk to Tony. She's aware that there's a connection between the two that isn't simple, just as it's obvious to anyone that Stark misses Jarvis' voice in his suit. He pretends he doesn't, but he fools exactly no one.  
Wanda embraces Vision to get some of his strength, gives him a quick peck on the lips, and they go separate ways to find Steve and Tony.  
She finds her target in the training room, punching a bag in a corner he decorated with posters from the forties. No one, not even Clint, ever makes a comment about it.  
“Steve?” she calls over the thump of Steve's fists hitting the leather bag. Nerves make the accent she never wanted to lose thicker; it's the only time she ever wished her English was flawless. Words seem too big for her mouth, vowels and consonants never rolling like they should on her tongue.  
Steve turns to her, hands automatically going to settle the bag. He's sweating but not even remotely out of breath. Wanda always find herself immediately smiling in his presence, bathed in the familiarity of his softness.  
“Wanda! What's bringing you down here?” he grins.  
She feels her mouth twisting into a nervous grimace and sees him frown in concern. Despite her best efforts, the anxiety makes her powers start to stir under the surface, and she has to focus for a minute to stop them.  
Steve puts a hand on her shoulder and she's brought back to the present. Everything in her stills at the contact, just like the punching bag he stopped from swinging a moment ago. He has that effect on people.  
“Everything alright?” he asks, tilting his head to better see her face.  
“Nothing's wrong exactly,” she looks down for a second, gathering the nerves to just say it, then sigh and looks back up at Steve because she's the Scarlet Witch and she's afraid of nothing.  
“Remember the fight with Thanos?”  
“Hard to forget,” he smiles gently.  
“Well, turns out I kinda magically...,” she looks for the right words. Gives up. “I'm pregnant.”  
Steve blinks with a surprise jerk of his head, but he doesn't let go of her. “You're...but– I mean, wow, Wanda! Congrats, it's amazing!”  
She's very fond of this part of him, the part that's always genuinely happy for people and shows it, the gentleman ways of a time long gone.  
And the time long gone makes itself known right after, for just a second. It's the part of Steve she was afraid would show itself because it breaks her heart, always. It's a flicker of sadness, of longing. The years lost and Peggy buried far, far away; this new life in which he's barely more than an icon, a relic.  
Then happiness sparks back in this eyes. He hugs her, careful of his strength, then let's go to hold her at arm's length with a proud smile.  
“Have you told anyone else yet?”  
“Vision,” she shrugs, “and you.” She doesn't miss the quick hint of pleasure in his eyes at being the first to know. “Vision's talking to Tony right now actually.”  
Steve laughs. “I shouldn't say that I feel a bit sorry for him, but I'm pretty sure Tony's rambling about mechanics to avoid freaking out in public. Come on, let's go save his ass.” He puts an arm around her shoulder and they start walking together.

When they enter the workshop, Vision is standing there looking like he's aged a hundred years in the short time since he left to talk to Stark. Steve grins and puts his hands in his pocket, looking like he's deeply enjoying himself.  
As predicted, Tony is running around looking manic, talking about something that sounds vaguely mystical to Wanda. Transparent hologram screens light up and disappear in a seemingly random fashion everywhere around the room. It's as hilarious as she was expecting it to be.  
She knows Tony doesn't really get how kids work but then he's weirdly good with them. Or maybe he just attracts them like some people don't like cats but are cat magnets.  
Either way, she knows that once he's alone to process, he'll start making plans to kid-proof the tower so nothing dangerous is in grabbing distance. For a second, it makes her wonder what exactly they'll do, where they'll really go to raise their babies.  
She focuses back on the present when Vision puts a hand on her back and turns to her with a frozen smile. She snorts. “Sorry,” she mouths at him.  
“And then I was thinking that the power would–”  
“Tony,” another voice interrupts, making Wanda realize that Bruce is actually there too, standing in front of a screen. Two birds one stone then.  
Tony turns their way and both men walk to them. Bruce approaches Wanda with a soft smile but he stops far away enough that anyone else would be offended. It's common knowledge in the tower though that he just has a wider definition of personal space. It's for his own peace of mind.  
“Congratulations,” he says with a bow of his head and a twinkle in his eyes. Stark joins him after having talked in a low voice with Steve.  
“Right,” Tony says, “congrats, I guess. Should we party to celebrate? Totally non-alcoholic, I was thinking champagne at first but then pregnant women can't drink, right? Or is that appendicitis? I can never tell,” he turns away and keeps talking even as he gestures at 3D blueprints around the room.  
“You'd think the best time to drink yourself to oblivion is when you have a...,” he shrugs, “around...,” he vaguely gestures at his own stomach, “but I guess the nine months sobriety is a good build up to the constant hungover of having a kid.”  
He continues talking under his breath when he stops at a specific workstation, purposefully oblivious to everyone watching him with various degrees of humor and raised eyebrows.  
Wanda knows he's happy for them, just too emotionally stunted to know how to show it correctly, so she let's him get away with it. Plus, he looks like he hasn't slept in way too long.  
Steve notices it too -like he always does- and as usual he'll step up to force Tony to take some rest. He's the only one Stark listens to about it.  
Bruce sighs while Steve walks up to Tony, points his thumb over his shoulder and excuses himself to go back to whatever he was doing. “We'll do a proper celebration tonight,” he promises with a smile, “it's very good news, we're happy for you two.”  
Steve calls out to repeat the sentiment and say he'll prepare things for the night, and Wanda and Vision leave the room. She sags against him in relief. It went good. She knows the hard questions will come eventually, but for now this is good.  
No one pointed at her in horror, no one decided it was best to ship her to a lab to be contained or experimented on. Not that she thought the team would, they're the last person on earth that would hurt her like this, but in the end it's the kind of fear that sticks with you.  
“Do you want to find the others now?” Vision asks. Wanda is already emotionally exhausted, but she guesses it wouldn't be fair for the others to learn about it much later, especially if a party is going to be thrown tonight.  
The day is young. Probably. She nods.

Clint and Natasha are, unsurprisingly, chilling together in a spy way. It's a peculiar thing, where they look relaxed but really aren't. Wanda witnessed their downtime once, and it wasn't anything like this: for one, Clint had a tie around his forehead and strong alcohol in hand.  
Natasha always has a more subtle way of being at ease.  
“What's up?” Clint asks while Natasha minutely jerks her chin in greeting.  
“We're having a party tonight,” Wanda chooses to start with, and Clint instantly looks interested, Natasha curious.  
“Yeah?”  
Wanda takes a deep breath, steeling her nerves. For some reason she always feels the need to seem confident in front of those two. “Because I'm pregnant,” she announces.  
The two spies share a look before turning to her again. Nat smirks like she already knew -which wouldn't be a surprise really- and Clint says, “Twins?”  
Wanda is taken aback by the comment. “How do you know?” she asks, and he just winks.  
“We're very happy for you,” Natasha gives her soft smile.  
“Especially if it gives us an excuse to party,” Clint laughs.  
Wanda chuckles, then says she needs a snack. “See you tonight!” she waves before leaving with Vision in tow. She needs some rest now. 

Thor, when he comes back in the late afternoon, is all big laughs and taps on the back. There's a sparkle in his eyes that makes Wanda know he'll be the one with the craziest advises on how to raise kids -nothing like hunting with a pack of wolves to forge the character- and the funny stories -did I ever tell you about the time...-  
In the end, he's the only one not even a little bit afraid of her, not ever.  
Gods are like that, she knows.

Wanda sometimes can't separate her birth tongue from the one Pietro and her invented to talk only to each other.  
The real prospect of becoming a parent makes her reflect more than ever before on how she was raised. There's so many questions: should she teach them her own language? Should she go far, far away from this life, try to fall off the grid like Bruce tried to? But he failed, so maybe...  
Raising her kids in the Avengers tower, will it make them safer in the end, or will it put them too close to danger? She doesn't want them to have to fight their way through life from a young age, like they had to with Pietro.  
She doesn't want them to have to become superheroes or tools of the government, but now that she's in the system is there any escape for her babies?  
They'll have powers. There's no doubting that, even if Strange hadn't already confirmed it.  
At the meeting a few days after the party, the team agreed that everything would be done to avoid any implication from officials in this pregnancy. No matter how much power the kids will inherit, they're still human being, still so delicate, and the dirty interest of scientists shouldn't touch them.  
Children born from magic. Sometimes Wanda has a hard time believing it. Whatever the circumstances, it feels like a fairy tale.

Wanda watches the slow tide of the sun's course running closer and closer to the horizon as her belly grows rounder.  
She observes the team's dance around her with interest and humor.  
Steve is alternating between really awkward and old-fashioned ways of caring. He buys her strawberries in the middle of fall and always fluffs up pillows before she sits down anywhere. There's days when she wants to strangle him for every new considerate thing he does, because it makes her feel so fragile.  
It also sometimes gives her the impression that she's less than herself now, that she's more of the babies she's carrying. Not exactly human anymore but a vessel for new life to see the light. It pisses her off to no end and it reminds her of being locked up to study her powers.  
She snaps once, and Steve freezes. Tony puts a hand on his shoulder and is unexpectedly helpful when he explains to Steve that he can be a little overwhelming sometimes but it's nobody's fault.  
Wanda, through the ugly sobs of anger and shame and goddamm hormones, is grateful. She thinks about it later and supposes Stark probably understands better than most what it's like to be reduced to only a part of the whole you are. To be disregarded. The difference is probably that they all too often forget that he's only human -much more breakable.  
He's also the only one to pretend that the pregnancy doesn't particularly interests him, but Wanda caught him working on a self swinging crib once. She didn't say anything about it, just thanked him when it appeared in her room with a simple note on it one day.  
Clint and Natasha aren't around a lot, away on some low level mission; but Wanda receives packages from all around the world with weird baby gifts in them. Two of each, and it probably amuses Clint a lot to make Natasha buy a second for everything he chooses with the excuses that it's twins Nat, we can't have one be jealous of the other can we?  
Wanda still doesn't know if they're away on purpose of not. They're both difficult to decipher, and if they seemed genuinely happy about the announcement, maybe some things are still hard for them to be around.  
Bruce is the one to have all the diet advises and helpful exercises. Every day he spends time with her to show her how to regulate her breathing, how to deal with pain, how to relax.  
In these moments she really wishes she had the idea to come to him earlier; Bruce is the expert on control issues and she feels herself be more and more aware of her powers, more able to reign them in by the day.  
When she tells him, he only smiles and says, “Happy to help.” They share a home-made smoothie afterward.  
Thor is...Thor. He always makes her laugh. Plus, he's very convenient when they need to move furniture for the nursery. They learn pretty soon not to leave him to assemble anything by himself though. That's...that's a story they'll share for a long time. 

There's an incident, near the eighth month. Wanda doesn't have the specifics after it's over, only knows that Tony was hurt, Clint and Natasha were called back but didn't arrive until it was dealt with anyway, and the others took care of the threat quickly.  
It seems so stupid afterwards, because it was only one guy. One human with, okay, more tech than he should've had, but still.  
He didn't even came close to Wanda, not by a long shot. She's still a mess. She can't stop crying, hates herself for it because she's never this weak.  
But it's the fact that one of their own got hurt and it took all the others to stop the guy, and he was nothing like the other threat they fight on a daily basis.  
And there has been fights in the last months. But– Always away from her and her twins.  
So she's a mess, Tony's a mess, and everyone fuss around them both. Especially Steve, only beaten by Vision when it comes to Wanda. Stark's bed ridden for a few weeks at least, which means he'll be up in days.  
Those few days are spent watching movies Tony judges everyone should have seen, and Wanda uses the distraction to calm herself from the emotion roller-coaster of the attack. She's even pretty sure Tony stays still a little more time than he would normally have, just to keep her company.  
Sometimes, Steve joins. Vision is never far. Clint and Natasha or Clint or Natasha stop by once in a while to make dry comments about the movies.  
Bruce keeps helping Wanda with relaxation, and it's then that she realizes her powers didn't act up when she was so stressed. It feels like a victory.

Wanda hears that in most cases you get three ultrasounds during your pregnancy. Having your own magical doctor gives her the privilege of way more than that, and she can see her two baby boys growing healthily.  
Vision always holds her hand and there's something so happy and proud on his face she almost only looks at him during the examinations.  
They joke that one of the two already seems to move way more than his brother; she can't help the feeling that he's like Pietro. She can't help but wonder if that's entirely her own doing because her brother is never far in her mind, or if it's purely genetics.  
Vision and her spend a lot of time picturing the future. She knows their couple always seemed odd, to everyone. A witch and an android.  
She heard someone say once that maybe they were together because they both had no feelings.  
It hurt. She knows she doesn't show her emotions much, but who are people to judge her as cold hearted and empty? Who are they to assume that Vision feels nothing?  
It's unfair.  
But she blocks these words and memories, because all that counts is the both of them trying to decide which color the nursery should be painted in. Trying to decide and understand how to raise superkids -Clint came up with that one and it unfortunately stuck with everyone.  
Quiet nights going over names. And keeping a straight face when the whole team gangs up to try and guess what they've chosen.  
Weeks pass. And then the times come.

By the time her babies are born, everything is ready, and everything is not. Wanda knows you can never figure everything out beforehand, you've got to leave some things to chance and learn the rest as it comes.  
The most important thing is that she knows these kids will be loved, have a whole family ready to say hi to them, that she has a whole team at her and Vision's back. It makes her cry a little, not that she'll ever admit it.  
Tommy and Billy scream after taking their first breath. They're so full of life. She feels so happy she's sure her heart is about to explode.

**Author's Note:**

> Voilà! 
> 
> I love kudos my friends, but pretend for a second they don't exist and leave a comment instead: even the tiniest comment is a huge reward for an author that spends weeks writing stuff and doesn't get paid for it! :):):)
> 
> If you really must, kudos are always appreciated!
> 
> And in the words and the great men that are Tulio and Miguel:  
>  **Both. Both is good.**


End file.
